Twas a night before a Weasley Christmas
by Larinzia
Summary: The Weasley clan, plus quite a few others, are spending a quiet Christmas together. Quiet? No, that's not the right word. Not for a Weasley Christmas. No romances or ships but there is plenty of fun, dragons and things that go BOOM!
1. Christmas Eve Afternoon edited

Part One - Christmas Eve afternoon  
  
"Mrs. Weasley, are you aware that there is black smoke coming from your kitchen?" Hermione asked as she sat her bulging bag down at the base of the fireplace she had just arrived in. It was a relief to be able get rid of one burden as she tried to calm Crookshanks enough to free his claws from their death grip on her shoulder.  
  
The older woman shook her head and smiled a rather thin smile. "It's just Ron. He's bound and determined to make Christmas treats this year but I don't know if the kitchen will ever be the same again. I'm trying my best not to interfere as it might put him off cooking forever and that would be a lovely thought. Are you able to stay through the holidays, dear?"  
  
"Yes. It's likely my parents won't make it back from the dull as dirt Dentistry Conference until well after Boxing Day. I'm so glad you asked me here so I had a reason not to go." The large orange cat finally extricated his claws from the fibres of the house scarf and jumped down to casually stroll over to an overstuffed chair by the fire. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief and attempted to straighten her rumpled clothing. "By the way, they both send their regards and regret that they can't be here. I love my parents to bits but they definitely have one-track minds. Is Harry here yet?  
  
After taking a second to contemplate someone being loved so much they broke into pieces, Mrs. Weasley shook her head to rid herself of the horrible picture the Muggle phrase seemed to bring up. "Harry got here two days ago. He and Ron have been planning something. I'm afraid that I won't want to know what's going to happen. Those two are always cooking up something. It's like having the twins at that age all over again."  
  
Hermione smiled, trying not to give the secret away that the three of them had been planning since the term started. One day more and they would know if all the work was going to pay off.  
  
For now, she decided to keep away from the smoking kitchen. The two boys could fend for themselves in there. She didn't like to get too close to any kind of kitchen, let alone one full of smoke and two teenage boys with wands. She shuddered, glad her mother still made her wash dishes like a Muggle. Kitchen appliances and magic had a strange resistance for each other.  
  
"Is Ginny upstairs? I think I'll drop off my bag in her room before the rest of the family gets here."  
  
The winding staircase led directly to the third floor, making no other stops. This was the new spell Ron had been talking about the other day after he handed out the Christmas invitations Pig had brought to the Great Hall during breakfast. Mrs. Weasley had been working on this specifically for the holiday season, knowing that her house would be full of people and wanting to keep the mischief to a minimum. Each guest was assigned a floor and could not get off at any other. There was even a guard against Apparating. Ron had spent hours telling and retelling about Fred getting caught in between floors when he tried to sneak up to the fifth floor to plant some sort of mischievous device. "Hey, Ginny. Open up." The door was locked and Hermione was smart enough to know that a simple spell like ALOHAMORA wasn't going to work. Ginny was much too clever to use something so simple to keep out unwanted guests.  
  
"Use the password," came the muted reply.  
  
"The what?"  
  
"The password. We talked about this the other day. At lunch. Hint, hint."  
  
She thought back to the day before school broke for Winter Holiday, wishing she had been concentrating harder on Ginny and not so much on Ron and Harry's whispers about pepper-flavoured candy canes and exploding ginger snaps. "Um, crummy roast?"  
  
"You've got to be kidding me. I think you can do better then that."  
  
"Runny coast?"  
  
The door swung open violently, Ginny's cheeks blazing. "Were you even listening to me? Crummy roast? Runny coast? No! Honey toast! I was eating some at the time."  
  
"I didn't think you were serious. I thought it was all just something you were thinking of doing. Your mum's moving staircase should keep the boys, both sets, away from this floor anyway."  
  
"That's just it. They aren't the only ones we have to worry about."  
  
She knew quite a few people were expected but not the complete guest list and she was intrigued. "Who else is coming?"  
  
The redhead grabbed her arm and pulled her into the small room. The poor space hadn't been redecorated much since Ginny had been away at school and dolls still occupied much of the space not taken up by the bed, chest of drawers and piles of books.  
  
After slamming the door and casting another hasty locking charm, she turned to face her friend. "It's not good. Not good at all. We're going to be sadly outnumbered."  
  
"More boys?"  
  
"Worse. More adults."  
  
"Ginny, I don't think a sane adult is going to want to break into your room. What would they steal? Your Merlin doll?" She picked up the plush miniature of the famous wizard and threw it at the angry girl.  
  
"It's not funny, Hermione. The Order will be here, of course, but most of them aren't arriving until tomorrow morning. Neville and the horrid woman who calls herself his grandmother will be here anytime and," she swallowed nervously, "Mum got the absurd notion to track down Snape and invite him over. He'll be here a little after midnight."  
  
"Snape? Here?" Hermione rapidly went through the assignments that had been given out for the holiday and started sweating. She hadn't started any of her homework, thinking she could enjoy some well-earned freedom until after the New Year. Doing her Potions homework was the last thing she wanted to think of right now.  
  
"Exactly. Between the Order telling us to leave the room while they discuss something important, that horrid woman hitting me with her purse, and Snape glaring at us for breathing in his general direction, I don't know if I can make it through Christmas this year."  
  
Ginny still shuddered every time she was reminded of the day not four months ago that everyone arrived at Platform 9 ¾. Her new sugar bat, a present from her brothers, had been nervous around the smoke and noise and had flown to the first safe looking hiding spot. It happened to be a bird atop the large hat dominating the head of Neville's Gran. Gentle coaxing sounds and urgent pleading hadn't worked as the woman refused to keep still long enough for the poor arrival to calm down. There had been only one option - Ginny had literally climbed up the woman The memory made Hermione smile but it quickly fell away as she remembered the other reasons Ginny was upset.  
  
"Don't worry. I have a plan. Let's go down and talk to Harry and Ron while the house is still relatively quiet."  
  
"Or maybe we can run away and hide out in a circus until school starts again."  
  
"Well, it's an option but let's try something else first."  
  
****  
  
Ron and Harry hung out the back door, frantically waving more black smoke through the opening. Their last batch of Chewy Chokers had blackened before they could figure out that the temperature of the oven was still too high. So far, they had ten failures to show for ten tries.  
  
"We really should get the twins to show us how they get the consistency right on the Cream Puff Puffers," Harry struggled to say through the hacking coughs.  
  
"Never. I don't want them to know that I can't follow one of their simplest recipes. If I have any chance of getting a job at the shop this summer, I need to prove that I can pull off the prank of the century."  
  
"How is serving up exploding food to a bunch of adults that know forty different ways of injuring us going to be a good prank?"  
  
"If I can fool any of the adults here into eating one of these special treats, I've done it. I've pulled off the biggest prank in history. When we first thought up this plan, I didn't know Snape was coming but just think of it. Image if we could tell everyone that we made Snape's face turn red and green."  
  
Ron let himself get lost in the fantasy of a fumbling, flustered Head of Slytherin House. It was one he had concocted in a particularly bad Potions class and he liked to embellish on the dream from time to time, even going so far as to cause Snape's hair to fall out and be replaced by snakes that nipped at his ears whenever he was evil to his class.  
  
Instantly, Harry's face took on the decided green hue it had started getting every time he thought of Snape. He had been hoping for a nice vacation away from his nightmare but, instead, was forced to endure two days of seeing Snape every time he turned around.  
  
"Harry! Ron! We need to talk." Hermione and Ginny ran through the kitchen and each grabbed a boy by the arm.  
  
"Tree house. Now!" Ginny commanded, not breaking her stride until they were within sight of the gnarled tree that held their childhood fort. A group of garden gnomes, decked out in mistletoe and holly berries, began to serenade them with an off-key rendition of "White Christmas" as they passed. "Hurry and throw a something at them or they'll never stop that infernal racket."  
  
Ron picked up a decaying potato from a stack at the edge of the garden and chucked it at the carollers. They scattered, muttering curses and threats. Singing garden gnomes in the Christmas spirit are never easy to get rid of. Once they memorize the carols, they don't like to quit singing and will often continue their carols well past May Day.  
  
"What's such a secret that we need to talk about it in the drafty tree? I thought the kitchen was a pretty safe bet. No one would have walked in with all the smoke wafting about." Harry was amused by Ginny's thorough search of the premises before she reclined back on one of the plush armchairs. It was as if she expected there to be listening devices everywhere she turned tonight.  
  
The tree house had the same amenities that most houses did, except there was no kitchen. Mr. Weasley had put his foot down when it came to the possibility of any of the children cooking without supervision. Oh, how well he knew his kids. While the Weasley's were growing up, they spent more hours in their own little world then they ever did at the main house. The twins had spent most summer nights sleeping on the roof they had paved with clunkerstone, a substance that reflected well enough that it seemed they were sleeping in the middle of the sky. Charlie had added the west wing addition with a whirlpool tub. Ginny had been the last to leave so there was still a decided pink hue to all the decorations.  
  
"Hermione decided that you two could be brought into this but I'm still sceptical."  
  
"Into what? If this is something where I have to dress up like a girl or wear anything that resembles makeup, I'm out of here. I'm not doing that again." Ron struggled to get up but stopped when he saw the strange expression on Harry's face. "It's a long story," he mumbled, settling back down.  
  
Hermione took charge of the conversation. "I'm sorry, Ginny, but you are the one that needs to be brought into our plan. Boys, I think that we should expand on the preparations now that we know who the real foes are. This is no longer a small prank that will make the twins look foolish. They need to be brought into this as well but that is completely up to you, Ron." He nodded reluctantly and Hermione walked over to a small corner window. She tapped on the glass with her wand and two eyes instantly appeared on the other side. "You two might as well come in. We know you're out there."  
  
Ginny turned a brilliant shade of red. Why hadn't she remembered that the twins had learned how to cloak their Extendable Eyes so they could be stuck to any window without being detected? She definitely wasn't going to make it as an Auror once she left Hogwarts if she didn't remember little things like that.  
  
The tall, gangly twins Apparated into the room, feeling slightly disappointed that they had been caught before they could see anything more interesting then the smattering of conversation between rather boring youngsters. They had taken to using the derogatory term ever since they had left Hogwarts and started their own business.  
  
"So, you were planning on pranking us, Ron. We knew it!" George exclaimed.  
  
Ron mumbled something and sank lower into his chair.  
  
"Don't think we wouldn't have loved to have watched your face turn red when it failed," Fred said, winking at his little brother.  
  
"Let's not dwell on this, you two. We need your help. I suppose you've heard who's coming for Christmas?"  
  
"Oh, that reminds me. Neville and that rather odd lady with the rather odd hat are both here. We told him where you all were right before we followed you out here." George looked at the door as if he expected it to open at the mere mention of the other boy's imminent arrival.  
  
"I'll go get him." Ginny was glad to get out of the room for a minute to catch her breath. She was still more embarrassed then she cared for anyone to realize that she had missed the invisible eyes. She prided herself on being as much a prankster as her brothers but she knew deep down that she really wasn't as good as them. Something was lacking in her that they seemed to possess. Or maybe she had too much of a conscience to truly pull off a decent joke. Whatever it was, she was glad that Hermione had pulled together a team of pranking experts that would allow her to stay in the background on this one. No matter what happened, that woman now inhabiting her house would not be able to hit her with that mammoth purse again.  
  
Neville was standing on the back porch, thoroughly engrossed in the entertainment provided by the gnomes.  
  
"Over here, Neville," she called as she picked up another stray potato. Her mother had planted the strange tuber on a whim this spring but had forgotten that the garden always produced three times as many vegetables as a normal garden. They had all been sick of potatoes by the end of the summer and had left piles of them around the garden path.  
  
"Have you heard these guys? They're really good. Wait! Don't go! Why'd you have to hit them with that disgusting thing? What was that, anyway?"  
  
"A potato. It was for your own good. They would have continued for days if you had let them. Come on. The gang's all here." The few gnomes who hadn't run far broke into a strained rendition of "Hail, Hail, The Gang's All Here" before Ginny lobbed another disintegrating bomb at them.  
  
"Maybe I should tell Gran where I am so she doesn't worry."  
  
Instantly, Ginny was on full alert. Grabbing hold of his hand, she tugged him toward the tree house. "Then by all means, let's hurry so she doesn't find us. You're sixteen, not five. You won't get lost while you're here. Besides, Mum will have her talking for hours yet. I'm sure they have tons to things to discuss."  
  
Mrs. Weasley, on the other hand, was already at a loss. Mrs. Longbottom had been in the sitting room for twenty minutes and they had already exhausted the three conversation topics Molly could think of.  
  
"Are you sure I can't take your handbag from you?"  
  
"No, thank you," the starched lady said through clinched teeth. "I'd rather have some way of defending myself if and when I am attacked."  
  
"I can assure you that you won't be attacked, ma'am. My children will be on their best behaviour and the animals are being kept out in the aviary my husband had built this last spring. The family's collection of birds and other animals is growing as they get older. Why, it was only three years ago that we only had Errol, our old owl, and Scabbers, the rat. Neither is with us any longer but we have replaced them three times over what with our Hercules, Ron's adorable little owl, Pig, and Ginny's sweet little Belfry. The twin's falcons are seldom here but they are rather large birds and do like to stretch their wings."  
  
Molly knew she was rambling but she couldn't help it. The older woman's sharp gaze was causing her to feel that she was back at school again and hadn't done her homework. What was she thinking? Why had she thought it would be a good idea to invite so many people for what should have been a quiet family celebration with just her brood and Harry and Hermione?  
  
"I appreciate that but I would still feel better if I kept my bag with me. Neville was so excited about coming to spend the holidays with his friends that I couldn't say no to him." For the first time, Molly saw a hint of the loving grandmother she was sure must be under the starchy surface.  
  
"He's such a wonderful boy and so well mannered. I hope he rubs off on Ron more. He could definitely use some more good influences in his life."  
  
At that moment, she would have eaten her words. Neville was jumping up and down on his chair, screaming at the top of his lungs, "Yes! Yes! Let me do that. I want to see the expression on Snape's face when he finds out that I was the one who convinced him to eat the blasted thing."  
  
"Neville, sit down. We can hear you just fine. Wouldn't want the adults in the house to hear anything that would make them suspicious, now would you?" Hermione chided.  
  
"Sorry. Just knowing that we might be able to make Snape feel like he always makes us feel is just too delicious for words."  
  
"Might?" asked George, the huge grin still lighting up his pale face. "There's no might about this, mate. We can't fail. Besides, I have it on good authority that Tonks wouldn't mind a piece of this action. She won't be here until a little later but I have an idea that she would be delighted to get Snape back for the comment he made last time they saw each other about her hair colour being directly related to her intelligence."  
  
Hermione once again took control of the conversation as the others started muttering about all the times Snape had made them feel like worms. "Are we all together on this? Either we all do this or we don't do it at all. Agreed?"  
  
All the heads nodded and there was much back slapping throughout the room as they departed from the tree house back to the heavily decorated and still smoky Weasley home. 


	2. Christmas Eve Dinner edited

Part Two - Christmas Eve dinner  
  
The usual Weasley dinner conversation was full of loud laughing and shouted jokes over the length of the table. Tonight, however, was not a usual Weasley dinner.  
  
For one thing, Arthur thought to himself as he twirled his glass of butterbeer thoughtfully, this was the most people that had ever fit around the battered kitchen table. He and Bill had barely finished creating a temporary extension to the little used formal dining room before Molly had started setting out the food. He preferred not to add onto the house if it could be helped, but the air had turned frigid and small flakes of snow had started falling soon after the Longbottoms arrived.  
  
For another, it was eerily quiet. Too quiet for Arthur's liking. He preferred the constant chatter of large family dinners. This strained silence was too much like the tension he felt at work, and he wanted none of that showing up in his home. Clearing his throat and glancing at Molly for support, he broke the silence. "Neville, I understand you have a toad?"  
  
The quiet boy looked from the head of the table to his grandmother across the table from him and back again. Very conscious that every eye was on him, he nodded and quickly looked back at his plate.  
  
It was obvious to Arthur that this was not the right place to start a conversation. He remembered now that Ron was often commenting that Neville was uncomfortable being singled out. The boy did seem rather intimidated by his grandmother, but who wouldn't be? The woman was currently glaring daggers at Ginny, who was sitting between Neville and Harry. Neither female was looking very jolly. He turned his attention to the twins, hoping they would be able to liven things up a bit.  
  
"Um, Fred. George. How's the shop doing?" He knew very well how the shop was doing. It had become a ritual for him to set the two down as soon as they arrived home each visit to have a chat about profit margins and reliable storage.  
  
The twins were seated on either side of Kingsley Shacklebolt. The dark Auror was the only person to date who could tongue-tie the two with his mere presence. His question appeared to fall on deaf ears. He noticed George staring spellbound by Kingsley's tiny gold earring and Fred gaping at the amount of food the man seemed to be consuming with little movement. Obviously, those two were going to be no help to the stagnant conversation. With a shake of his head, Arthur fervently hoped Molly didn't blow her top when the two came home with bits of gold glinting in their own ears.  
  
Molly had turned away from him now; he tried to figure out what she was looking at. Members of his family and a good majority of the Order of the Phoenix were lined up down the long table, but no one seemed interested in sharing the general merriment of the season. Nonetheless, everyone but Charlie seemed intent on eating their way through the delicious holiday feast. Arthur had thought it odd that his second oldest son had been holed up in the shed since his arrival this morning. Now, he watched him pushing his food around on his plate, either staring around him with a nonchalant glance, as if he was viewing portraits in a gallery, or jumping slightly with a guilty flush.  
  
"Charlie, how's Romania been? It's not often you get to come home for Christmas. The dragons must be quiet this year. How did you manage time off during mating season?"  
  
This time his son's flush rivalled the deep red of the poinsettia flowers decorating the middle of the table. "Dragons? No, there aren't any dragons here."  
  
"Course there aren't," Mundungus Fletcher chuckled, slapping Charlie's back with enough force to drive his stomach into the table. "No dragons in these parts since I wassa boy. Nice creatures to have 'round when you want to start a fire. Could sell 'em for a nice profit if ya had any."  
  
Molly growled, low and menacing, like a mother lion whose cub was too near to danger. Fletcher had been the only member of the Order not explicitly invited to spend Christmas at the Weasley's, but had managed to convince Moody to let him tag along. Molly had promptly locked up the silver candlesticks that had been a wedding present from Great Aunt Maude and a treasured diamond brooch and pin set that she rarely wore. Arthur didn't figure the poor man could do too much damage with so many people around. Besides, Moody had promised he wouldn't let the con man out of the sight of his magical eye.  
  
The other diners, taking their cue from Molly's frustration and anger, chose not to look directly at the man as he continued talking about other ways dragons were useful. Charlie's face had gone pale, and he looked nauseous.  
  
Arthur had reached his limit. The dinner conversation was unsalvageable and he was uncomfortable in his own home. Reaching over the place a peck on his wife's cheek, he stood up. "I think I'll head outside for a bit of a ramble before bed."  
  
Hurrying out of the room, he heard his wife's howl of rage but refused to be swayed from his present course. With any luck, he could be out for several hours yet before the storm drove him back inside.  
  
***  
  
"Do you think anyone suspected anything?" Neville whispered to Harry. He had started to feel very foolish during dinner, convinced the secret he held onto was painted on his forehead somehow for the world to see. His Gran was spending all her time glaring at Ginny, who was giving the same right back, so he didn't think she had noticed anything amiss.  
  
"No, of course not. Don't worry so much. We'll get away with this one for sure."  
  
"I'm just not good with secrets. Never have been. My conscience always rats me out in the end."  
  
Harry turned to glare at him, his green eyes snapping like well-polished gemstones. "Well, this time it's not going to. You're going to do exactly what we told you to do and we're not going to get caught. Do we understand each other?"  
  
He nodded his agreement but still felt as if WATCH OUT FOR ME! I HAVE A SECRET! was flashing in red and green fairy lights above his head. Obviously he needed to keep busy and out of the way. Remembering the books he had brought with him, he started toward the staircase.  
  
Ron's room was silent and dim. Only one light flickered from the corner, but it was enough as it bounced off the continuous orange of the Chudley Canon paraphernalia lining the walls. The effect was a pleasant glow that was perfect for Neville's quick search of his bag. Locating his writing supplies, parchments, and the slim library book, he headed back out the door. He noticed the pacing figure as he started towards the stairs.  
  
"What to do? What to do?" Charlie muttered, walking back and forth as he hunched over, a small bundle in his hands.  
  
"Charlie? What're you doing up here? I thought we were all restricted to the floors we were sleeping on."  
  
"What? Oh, Neville. Sorry, didn't see you. I'm trying to get away from the crowds. They scare Precious. Uh, I mean, they scare me. Scare me something awful."  
  
"They do? I never would have figured you for a shy person. You're Charlie Weasley - dragon tamer extraordinaire."  
  
He stopped and smiled. "They call me that at Hogwarts?"  
  
"Well, not really. Ginny called you that once when she was angry with Dean Thomas. She threatened to send one of your dragons after him. It just kinda stuck in my head."  
  
"Oh." He started walking again; his shoulders hunched even more then before.  
  
"I'm sure it's true, though. Just because no one outside your family talks about you, it doesn't mean that you aren't doing a great job in Romania."  
  
"I used to be someone, Neville. You know the type. Girls swooned when I walked in the room. Other boys fought over who would sit next to me in the Great Hall. The great Charlie Weasley. Ha! If they could see me now. Glorified dragon baby-sitter."  
  
Neville hefted the articles in his hand and contemplated sneaking down the stairs while Charlie's back was turned. It seemed wrong to leave him while he was depressed, though. "I wouldn't call you a baby-sitter. Dragons aren't that easy to handle."  
  
"They are when they're only five days old and haven't figured out that they're supposed to blow fire." He lifted his arms a little, allowing Neville to see what he was holding. A tiny blue dragon's head poked out of the silvery blanket, the eyes mere slits under a dusting of yellow freckles.  
  
"That's a . . . a . . . a-" He was now backed up against the wall, his bundle fallen to the floor and forgotten in his haste to put distance between himself and the ferocious beast.  
  
"A dragon. I know."  
  
Charlie started walking toward him Neville stopped him with an outstretched hand. He knew there was a look of terror on his face but he couldn't help himself. Considering all the horrible myths and legends surrounding the animals, eve a baby dragon was a threat to his peace of mind.  
  
The babysitter tried explaining himself again. "This is the only way I could come home for Christmas this year. Little Precious wouldn't let anyone else take care of her, and I promised to keep her hidden. Like I said, she hasn't figured out that she's a fire-breathing animal and we don't dare put her in the pen with the others. They'd make a blackened lump out of her."  
  
"Charlie, that's a dragon."  
  
"She can't hurt anyone. I promise."  
  
"Is that why you were so jumpy at dinner?"  
  
He chuckled. "She likes to flex her little claws when she's tired. Dinner lasted a little longer then I thought it would, and she really needed to go somewhere quiet to calm down."  
  
"So your parents don't know about the dragon?"  
  
"Don't say the dragon like it's a bad word. I told you, she couldn't hurt anyone."  
  
Neville wasn't convinced but calmed down enough to pick up his school supplies. "Sure, sure. Whatever you say. You're the boss."  
  
"Once I get her to sleep, she should sleep through the night. I just don't know where to put her down. I had thought about setting her up in the shed, but it's so cold and lonely out there. She really does like to be around people. And if I go downstairs with her now, Mum will scream and that'll just wake her up again."  
  
"Really? You think she'll scream?"  
  
"For a quiet boy, you sure know how to use your sarcasm. You aren't helping."  
  
"Okay, okay. I'm sorry." He looked around the short hallway, hoping an idea would fall from the ceiling and hit him on the head. "Can't you leave, uh, her in your room?"  
  
"No, Bill would kill me. Besides, we're on the first floor as Dad and Mum. They're bound to notice something when she wakes up tonight for her midnight feeding."  
  
"If you're down on the main floor, how'd you get all the way up here?"  
  
"You mean the Same Stair Spell?" He smiled the same devastating smile that still made the girls scream and the boys want to be around him. "Would you think someone with this face could do anything wrong?"  
  
The idea finally did fall from the sky and hit Neville on the head. "Go wait on the second floor. I think we can help each other." He ran down the stairs, hoping that the group didn't mind him adding to their number of people in on the secret.  
  
He came to a screeching halt in the entryway to find the room now full of people and decidedly more decorated then it had been last time he had been there. The Muggle Christmas tree had been in place for twenty minutes and already it was taking on a decidedly non-Muggle appearance. Real icicles hung from every branch, dripping water on the frayed carpet. A delighted Crookshanks watched as tiny birds chirped from nests placed throughout while tiny fairies danced and twirled in different holiday costumes.  
  
"Ginny. Hermione. Are you almost done with the popcorn chain?" Mrs. Weasley stood in the centre of the room, shouting out instructions to everyone who had been too slow to escape her decorating tirades.  
  
"Almost," sighed a dejected looking Hermione. Both girls struggled with the needle and thread, trying to catch the pesky popcorn as Fred and George popped it in midair and let it rain down on them.  
  
"As soon as Bill is done fashioning all the glass baubles, we're going to need those garlands. You'd better pick up the pace."  
  
Brilliant red and gold balls billowed out of Bill's wand and floated to the tree. "Sorry, Mum. They're not turning out to be very glassy. More of a translucent bubble."  
  
"They need to be glass. The Christmas balls in the book are all made out of the delicate blown glass." She pointed emphatically to the picture, close to hysterics at the way the tree was, or was not, turning out.  
  
"It's not going to happen. If I try glass, they end up looking like that." A pool of bubbling ooze popped and hissed on the floor in front of the roaring fire.  
  
"Oh, Bill! What did you do?"  
  
"He tried it the Muggle way," Mrs. Longbottom sniffed. Apparently, she felt she had kept quiet long enough from her position near the window where she had chosen to sit away from the holiday excitement. "It's no use trying to mix the two. Either do it one way or the other."  
  
Neville beckoned to Harry, hoping neither alpha female spotted him as they faced off with the holiday book between them. "Get the girls and meet me at the foot of the stair."  
  
The dark-haired boy nodded and made his way casually to the part of the parlour caught in a blizzard of white. The two girls followed him out of the room, looking very glad to be abandoning their broken string and bent needles.  
  
"We may be in luck," Neville gushed. "Charlie is waiting upstairs by your room, Ginny. He needs to keep something safe and your room seemed the best bet."  
  
"No," she moaned, stomping her foot like a spoiled toddler. Harry glanced at her sharply and she quieted.  
  
"I figure we can help him out and he can help us."  
  
Hermione looked suspicious. "With what?"  
  
"He's not bound to one floor. The spell doesn't affect him."  
  
"So he can plant the-"  
  
"Yes! Exactly!"  
  
With a high-pitched squeal that only a teenage girl could pull off, Ginny pulled Hermione up the stairs.  
  
"Where's Ron?"  
  
Harry lifted his chin, indicating the kitchen. "The twins have given him a recipe they guarantee he can't mess up. Obviously," he smiled as the muffled cursing started, "it still isn't working out well."  
  
"Family! Look who has come to visit us!" All attention turned to the opening of the front door and Mr. Weasley's shouted greeting. He and a stranger were blowing their way in under a pile of wet snow. The few flakes that had started to fall earlier were multiplying and bringing friends along. "Can you believe this weather? Who would have thought we would have snow at Christmas?"  
  
"Arthur, what were you thinking wandering about in this weather?" Hands reached out to dust off the offending flakes and grab at the coats and hats and scarves until the two men stood in a circle of silent watchers.  
  
"I was walking down the lane and there he was, stuck along side the road. His automobile ran off the road, owing to the icy conditions. He has a car service but they can't come until the snow stops. A service for a car. Can you imagine it? A car service. It sounds so incredibly Mug-"  
  
"Arthur!"  
  
"Dad!"  
  
"Mr. Weasley!"  
  
Everyone started talking at once, hoping that the poor, wide-eyed stranger hadn't already been thoroughly interrogated by the Muggle-mad head of household.  
  
"Come in by the fire and we'll get you something warm to drink. Do you like butterbeer?"  
  
"Your clothes are soaking. Bill, go get some of your clothes. You look the same size."  
  
The babble continued until the man held up his hands. "Please, I beg you. Just let me use your phone and I'll be out of your hair in a jiff. My office is expecting me back tonight and my mobile has died." The small silver gadget he held in his hand sparkled as all eyes turned towards it in wonder.  
  
"And what does that device do? I would love to take it apart and see what magic makes it work."  
  
Harry hurried forward and took the man's arm before Arthur could say anything more incriminating. "Sir, why don't you sit beside the fire, and we'll see what we can do for you. Mr. Weasley, you go get that drink. Mrs.Weasley, why don't you finish decorating the tree with some of your more normal Christmas decorations?"  
  
Safe for now, the people that were left took a deep breath and tried to act as Muggle as possible as they headed back to the front room. There was a moment of peace before a large explosion rocked the house. Rolling his eyes, Harry groaned as a string of curses filtered into the room followed by another bang. "Neville, go tell Ron about our guest and see if he can finish his baking a little more quietly."  
  
"Happy Christmas to all and to all a good night," Bill muttered as he entered the room, carrying the only thing he could find at such short notice. The pink ruffled shirt and blue striped trousers weren't anything that could be found on Seville Row but they would have to do.  
  
"That sounds like an excellent suggestion," Molly said, bustling in behind her son. "Why don't we all hurry off to bed so Christmas will be here sooner?"  
  
Green flames shot up in the fireplace, giving the room and all the occupants a strange glow. In that instant, Harry was afraid the man beside him was going to scream like a girl. He took the clothes Bill had in his arms and threw them over the man's head, hoping to hide what was obviously not the most usual entrance.  
  
"Well," Snape drawled, "isn't this a cozy scene."  
  
The Muggle screamed, clawing at the fabric over his eyes before he finally succumbed and fainted dead away. 


	3. Very Early Christmas Morning

Section three - Very early Christmas morning  
  
Midnight had come and gone and still Ron could not fall asleep. His singed eyebrows were smarting and he couldn't help but rub the irritated skin. Nothing was working out like he had planned it.  
  
When he had first heard that Snape was coming to spend Christmas with his family and a good majority of the Order of the Phoenix, he had been disappointed at having to share his family and a little frightened of what the stern professor would say when the inevitable Christmas letter jumpers were opened and admired. The presents were a running joke in his household but every single Weasley would gladly cut out his or her tongue before saying anything derogatory in front of Mrs. Weasley.  
  
The idea behind the perfect prank had first come to Ron when he started thinking of ways to keep Snape from saying anything that could hurt his mum. A couple of the Weasley Wizarding Wheezes "Dumb & Deaf Divinity" and the professor would be unable to speak or hear for a good thirty minutes. That would allow time to finish the gift giving.  
  
It had been Fred's idea to start the fun early and plant something in the guest room the menace was sleeping in. The idea was simple and classic but it lacked what Ron wanted the most - public humiliation.  
  
He still clung to his original idea of the tricky Christmas treat platter but knew that the real genius lay quietly in the brightly wrapped package just to the right of the tree. Hermione, Harry and George had spent twenty minutes agonizing the precise placement for proper angle and torque. Quick, easy - but with lasting results.  
  
It finally dawned on him why he couldn't sleep. A throaty rasp and rattle had been filling the quiet night at intervals that made it impossible for him to drop off. Rolling over, he heard a disgusted snort nearby.  
  
"Harry, what is that noise?" mumbled Ron; glad he wasn't the only one awake.  
  
"I think it's Bill snoring."  
  
"It's not me," the accused man retorted, throwing a small pillow at the smart aleck across the room. "And since Charlie is drooling on my shoulder, I don't think it's him."  
  
The oldest Weasley boys had been moved into Ron's already crowded room for the few days the house would be full and were not happy about it. Their room had originally been planned on for Snape but was appropriated for the Muggle, Mr. Jonathon Fredricks, after his inelegant exit from reality. Snape was now sleeping, quite against his will, on the lumpy couch in front of the fire.  
  
"Neville? Is that noise coming from you?"  
  
"No," he mumbled. "Not me. I was asleep until you all started throwing things at each other." Another pillow came out of the darkness to strike him on the shoulder. Snagging the ammunition from the floor, he threw it in the general direction it had come from.  
  
"Ahh! We were being good and you had to drag us into the battle," cried Fred from the swinging hammocks he and George had strung up from the exposed timbres of the peaked ceiling.  
  
Pillows, blankets, socks and crumpled Chudley Canon posters began to fly through the air as the boys got completely into the sides of the battle.  
  
"Wait! Lumos!" The fight stopped as light glowed from Charlie's wand. "Why are we throwing things at each other?"  
  
"Someone is making a racket. We just wanted to shut it up," Ron patiently explained, tossing a moldy end of bread from hand to hand until he realized what he had and threw it down in disgust.  
  
"It didn't work. I can still hear the grating wheeze."  
  
He was right. Instantly, everyone dropped their weapons and listened intently.  
  
"It's coming from above us."  
  
"No, that's impossible. There's nothing above us."  
  
"There's the ghoul, but it usually just bangs around on the pipes."  
  
"The sound is definitely coming from below us."  
  
"Is it dad?"  
  
"He's never made this kind of racket before."  
  
"I don't think I've ever heard that kind of sound before."  
  
As if thinking with one brain, the same thought hit them at the same time. They shouted in unison, "SNAPE!"  
  
"Too bad we couldn't put anything in his bed, like we planned," Ron complained. He had tried to convince his mother to let the Muggle stay in the living room, but she had been unmoving about showing the stranger as much hospitality as they could offer in the crowded house.  
  
"We'll get him in the morning. There is no way he'll figure out what we have waiting for him in his present."  
  
Neville poked his head out of the fort of blankets where he had been hiding. "I get to be the one to hand him the gift, right? You promised."  
  
"Don't worry, Neville." Harry searched the room for his socks, finally finding one on Fred's hammock and the other stuck between the wall and Ron's school trunk. "I think we should go see if we can do something to stop the noise."  
  
"Now you're talking, mate!"  
  
"Right on!"  
  
The twins dressed, eager to help with any dead of night activities, and five of the seven started down the darkened stairs. Bill and Charlie promised to meet them downstairs.  
  
"Fred, why don't you and George Apparate like you did before?" Ron asked quietly, remembering how the two of them never seemed to walk anywhere after they got their Apparating license.  
  
"It's not as fun as it used to be. That, and George got in a spot of trouble one day when he tried to Apparate into the backroom of the store and almost didn't make it back in one piece."  
  
There was a thump and Fred ducked another blow from his brother's fists. "You promised not to tell the story again."  
  
"He asked. I promised not to bring it up again. You never said anything about answering questions." The two scuffled until Harry hit them each on the head with his slipper.  
  
Bill waited for them at the bottom of the stairs. "If we're the only ones up after your trip downstairs, I'll be surprised. I think Ron tumbling down on his butt would have made less noise."  
  
"I told 'em to shut it," Harry retorted, glaring at the twins.  
  
"Yes, I heard you. It would have been less of a roar if you hadn't done anything." The group was silent as they tried to figure out if Bill had complimented or chastised the proclaimed leader of their group. "Come on. Charlie has to feed Precious then he'll be right down. He asked that we not start the fireworks until he gets down here."  
  
"How do you know about the fireworks?" Neville asked. Both Harry and Ron glared at him and made slashing motions to keep him from talking. "What? He wasn't supposed to know we were going to do anything. Who told you?"  
  
"No one had to tell me. I figured out that something was going on - I can't imagine the lot of you being together without something going on - so I just paid attention. Snape being here was just too good to pass up, wasn't it?" His sarcastic quip quieted down the group like nothing else would have.  
  
Ron finally whispered, "Do you think the others have figured out what we want to do?"  
  
"You blew the kitchen up today with your baking, Ron. I think your mum must have a good idea that it wouldn't be within her best interest to eat anything you try to hand out." Harry laughed as Ron turned on him, his eyes narrowed. "What? Did you really think we were all going to try your Christmas treats?"  
  
"Gran did ask me to warn her whenever your experiments showed up on a table. If she hadn't been so concerned with Ginny's next attempt on her life, she'd probably have spent her time glaring at you."  
  
Bill laughed, his face finally turning bright red and his breath coming out in funny little gasps as he attempted to stop. The earnest expression on Neville's face as he talked about his grandmother's misinterpretations of past events was enough to keep him going until he finally slumped to the floor in an effort to get his breath back. Even the twins were finding the boy's sincerity funny.  
  
"Come on, Neville. Let's leave these half-wits to their own devices." Harry, Ron, and the slightly offended boy crept closer to the snoring. They were disappointed to see that there was no way the sound could come from Snape. He sat on the couch, staring at the banked fire.  
  
"What's he holding?" Neville whispered.  
  
"I can't tell. Something pretty important, I would say. The guy's in his own little world right now."  
  
"Let's see if we can't get a better look." Ron smiled as he grabbed a rubbery twist of string out of his pocket.  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"Let's just say we can thank Fred and George for being forgetful. They should never have left the Extendable Eyes lying around like they did yesterday." His first attempt to levitate the eyes across the room ended with a thud against a wall. The second time, a footstool got in the way.  
  
Harry whipped out his wand and growled, "Let me. You're going to get us in trouble."  
  
"No. I can do this." The third time was successful as the rubbery orbs landed gently on the arm of the sofa. His threw a look of triumph at his best friend.  
  
"Is that a girl with him?" The photograph in his hand was clear now, but Neville still strained forward, eager to see what he could.  
  
"Looks like one but who would possibly be in a picture with him?" Harry squinted, as if trying to place the woman, until a movement caught his eye and he found himself watching Snape flick a small bit of moisture from the corner of his eye. In that instant, the boy felt his heart twist.  
  
Neville felt his nose twitch. As he tried to keep the sneeze inside, he only succeeded in making it bigger and more explosive. As it ripped through his system, he gripped the closest thing to him for support - Ron's wand arm. Harry saw the arm fumble and tried to steady the Eyes with his own wand.  
  
Ron flailed about, trying his best to stay on his feet. A wild sweep of his arm caught Harry on the chin, knocking his head back. With a crash, all three boys fell to the floor.  
  
***  
  
The snoring had also kept the three girls awake, but they had decided to stay under the warm covers and have a chat. Since Tonks had arrived after the house had calmed down, she had been promptly carried off to the girls room to be caught up on current events. Ginny, in the meantime, was getting a wicked plan involving an adaptation of Tonks' current hair colour and the family gathering later that day. Her mother was sure to hyperventilate when she saw her only daughter's hairstyle.  
  
"Is it easy to keep the different stripes of colour in place?"  
  
"My hair's much shorter then yours so I don't have to worry about it moving about. Are you sure you can do this spell without having it backfire and making something awful happen to your lovely hair?"  
  
Ginny sighed. "Lovely? No, it's not lovely. It would be lovely if I was the only one around with this colour, but I'm surrounded by red hair. It's like being a septuplet sometimes. I'm tired of looking normal. You're so lucky to be able to change your appearance on a whim."  
  
"Not lucky. It's a struggle always feeling that I have to look a certain way in a certain situation. This is more a statement to myself that I can be an individual and I don't need to confirm to the standards set by those around me."  
  
"Hoping Snape says something?"  
  
"Most definitely!" The conversation faded into sleepy giggles until the light knock at the door.  
  
Ginny quickly lit a candle with a burst from her wand and crept over to whisper, "Password?"  
  
"Open up because Precious is likely to wake up any time now wanting food and I don't think you want to be responsible for what she's liable to do."  
  
"Good enough."  
  
"Forgot to ask if you were all decent," Charlie mumbled as he cast his eyes down to his big toe sticking out of his left sock.  
  
"It's freezing in this house, Charles Weasley!" Tonks retorted. "Of course we're decent."  
  
"Nice hair, Nymphadora." The second pillow fight of the evening started with a laser shot to Charlie's left ear.  
  
"Call me that again and I'll throw something with more umph behind it."  
  
After being hit many more times, the man held up a white pillowcase, the most recent missile. "I give up. You win!" Picking up the blanket- wrapped dragon from the nest of pillows in the corner, he sat down at the foot of Ginny's bed and pulled a baby bottle out of his rucksack. "The girls tell you the plan, Tonks?"  
  
"They got me up to speed. I don't know if I care for that kind of prank, though. It's great at the time, but it always comes back at the worst moments."  
  
"Not too keen myself, but Neville did me a good turn so I feel I should help him out. Poor kid. Ron's told me some of the stories about how Snape's treated him. No one deserves that kind of hassle from a professor."  
  
"He's tame as a lamb in our class," Ginny mentioned, huddling over her brother's shoulder to watch the cute little animal taking the strange green liquid in the bottle quite greedily. She realized that the others had become strangely silent and looked up. "What? Don't look at me that way. I know he's a git. He just doesn't have anyone to pick on in my class."  
  
"I'm surprised he doesn't pick on you just because you're a Weasley." Hermione rolled her eyes with disgust.  
  
"There are worse enemies to have, you know."  
  
"Oh, really? Like who?"  
  
"Like Mrs. Longbottom. The woman is just waiting for her chance to take off my head with that handbag of hers. I bet it's full of bricks."  
  
"Why would she use-"  
  
Three explosions from down below rattled the window beside the bed, causing the rooms occupants to flinch. Complete silence followed.  
  
Tonks cleared her throat and shook her head while she asked, "You forget something, Charlie?"  
  
"Like what?"  
  
"Like you weren't supposed to set Snape's surprise tonight because he was on the couch."  
  
"I didn't."  
  
Hermione laughed. "Then what was that?"  
  
"I don't know." Moving to put the dragon back in her nest, he shook his head. "You better get dressed. Christmas may be starting early this year."  
  
Sure enough, the front room was pandemonium. Mad Eye Moody stomped about the room, shouting at anyone that got in his way about a decided lack of vigilance. The room was so crowded that a lot of people were unlucky enough to get in his way. Mundungus was skulking at the bottom of the tree, surreptitiously shaking the different presents. The twins were pinned to the wall - literally - while their mother made them look as if they rued the day they had decided to spend Christmas with their family instead of a nice beach in the South of France.  
  
"Exploding Snowballs," Ginny groaned as she noticed the splotch of green on Fred's cheek. "I was hoping the twins were going to forget they had brought some of those home. They sting when the land and they leave marks on whatever they hit."  
  
"I think we should make ourselves scarce," Tonks whispered. "If the expression on Ron's face is any indication, the twins aren't the only ones that have been interrogated by Mrs. Weasley."  
  
Sure enough, Ron was staring into space with wide eyes. He had the look of a prisoner waiting for a death sentence to be carried out. Harry hunched beside his friend, looking as if he was trying to hide from the rest of the adults in the room.  
  
The only person who didn't look angry, guilty, or scared was Snape. The professor stood in the centre of the room, a smug look on his pinched face. Large splotches of colour were fading slowly from the front of his dressing gown.  
  
"Too late," muttered Charlie as he stepped in front of his sister to shield her from the screams coming from the now hysterical woman in the corner. Neville was bent over his grandmother, barely keeping the woman in her seat.  
  
"That's the one. I saw the little harpy. She tried to kill me. Sneaking into my room and exploding a bomb right by my ear. I saw her. I nearly died of the fright. I could have fallen down the stairs and broken my neck. Would that have make you happy? You should be locked away where you can't hurt anyone else."  
  
The new arrivals didn't faze Mrs. Weasley as she continued to scream at the boys but the others fell silent. Mr. Weasley ran to the aid of the boy while Bill sprinted over to help keep his sister from running at her accuser. Snape pulled out his wand but looked unsure who needed to be silenced the most.  
  
"You flighty old bag. I never did anything of the sort. Tell her, Hermione. I didn't try to kill you at the train station, and I haven't been anything but polite tonight." Hermione's eyes widened as she was suddenly made part of the ranting, and she slunk back against the wall. Tonks moved to stand beside her, as if hoping no one noticed she had come down with the group. No such luck. Ginny saw the movement and tried another tactic. "Tell her. Tell her, Tonks. I was upstairs with you this whole time. The whole time, I tell you. Think you can get me with your handbag again, do you? Not bloody likely. Let me go, Charlie. Let me at her. I can handle her. I'll make her wish she had never woken up."  
  
Harry pulled himself from beside the chair and walked to his teacher's side. "I don't think any of them will want to remember this in the morning. I know you had been planning on wiping the Muggle's memory. I say just level this whole place with the spell."  
  
The sneer that had fallen off when the screaming match started inserted itself back where it belonged. "Do you mean to tell me you aren't going to attempt the spell yourself, Potter? This is just the thing you would enjoy. Another chance to save the day."  
  
The two rivals faced off but there was a lack of heat from Harry. "I don't know the spell well enough to do something this big but I know you can," he whispered.  
  
"What?" Snape mocked. "I don't think I heard you."  
  
"Do the spell. You're a better wizard."  
  
"And why should I let them forget this? I was covered with slush fifteen minutes ago. Don't you think someone should pay for that?"  
  
"Look around the room, Professor. I think everyone's paid in spades for the snowball fight. This shouldn't be how anyone spends the holidays. Think of it as a present to the Weasleys for opening up their home and keeping you from spending another holiday alone."  
  
There was a thin crack in the bitter veneer that turned into a small smile. "Since you won't remember this, I think I'm safe in saying this. Happy Christmas, Harry."  
  
"Happy Christmas, Professor. May your new year be full of fewer detentions with me."  
  
With a laugh and a perfectly executed swish and flick, the room glowed and sparked. 


End file.
